


In the Theatre of Dionysios

by songquake



Category: Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling
Genre: M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-01-31
Updated: 2013-01-31
Packaged: 2017-11-27 16:08:57
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 999
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/663908
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/songquake/pseuds/songquake
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Remus wants to perform a sacred rite. Sirius just wants to fuck. Fortunately, they're invoking Dionysios.</p>
            </blockquote>





	In the Theatre of Dionysios

**Author's Note:**

> **Warnings:** Slash, abuse of ancient myths and sites, pseudo-bestiality.
> 
> The information about the ritual is a shameless perversion of that described on the Wikipedia page for [The Dionysian Mysteries](http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Dionysian_Mysteries).
> 
> Written for the April 2010 round of ptterpr0nprmpts on LJ.

Dismounting his flying Harley, Sirius shoved Remus against it, straddling his lover as ably as he had the bike. "Moony," he growled, seeing the graffiti on the Parthenian gate and tapping the book tucked inside Remus' jacket, "I thought we were going to _fuck_. Are we back at this tourist trap for _storytime_?" He kicked Remus' legs apart, pressing closer. 

"Not – story – time, Padfoot," Remus gasped, avoiding Sirius' pelvis by backing into the engine. "Sex magic. Interested?" He raised his eyes, the gold in them glinting. "Or do you want a regular fuck right here?"

"Sex magic," Sirius grunted, and roughly grabbed Remus' hand as he used his other to _Disillusion_ the motorbike. "Come _on_ , then."

Remus chuckled, having the measure of his lover. "Help me gather the elements as we climb," he said, opening the book to his list. Remus had adapted a ritual from rites at Delphi and hoped it would suffice.

Gathering pine cones, ivy, wild grapes and other traditional gifts, they climbed the Akropolis to its Theatre of Dionysios. Approaching the summit, already their skin shone and hearts drummed; Sirius shivered. Remus grabbed his jaw, kissing him hard. Catching Sirius' eyes again, he whispered, "I brought a cone of frankincense, Siri. We've _almost_ all our offerings."

Sirius moaned.

"Yes," Remus hissed. "Look at the ancient Theatre, all dry and dusty. I've wanted to invoke Dionysios since I first read about his cults. Let's do it here, and bring his space to life again. Please, Sirius," he said, "help me conduct his Initiation Rite?" 

Sirius squeezed tighter, trying to force love through his pores in response.

" _Sirius_!" Remus' sharpness called him back. "Out loud. Do you want to become an initiate of Dionysios?"

Sirius started, then looked up, grinning. "Why, yes. Yes, I do."

They scrambled down the uneven steps to the Theatre. Snuffling, Remus prowled the stage, discovering the ancient site of the ritual: a circle of charred marble to the rear of the stage. 

Sirius embraced him, asking, "Moony, what should I—"

"Find something to burn," Remus interrupted. "Then get your arse back here so we can start."

Fuel was easy to find: there was a hopper of coal and some dry twigs not five metres away. Sirius laid the coal and kindling, and pulled the Muggle lighter he carried from his leather jacket. Remus often chastised him for "smelling like that tobacco shite", but the Zippo and jacket were dead useful, and sexy besides. If he did say so himself.

Remus, meanwhile, stood starkers before the flame, having laid their offerings on a tall block. "Strip off," he growled, "and I'll tell you how it will be."

Sirius stripped, surprised—though not disappointed—by his lover's forceful tone.

"We have gathered all but one crucial offering, see?" Remus gestured to the book as he pulled his lover close, taking in the tang of Sirius' sweat as their chests slid together. "We need to offer musk. Gather mine."

"Yes!" Sirius grunted, and slid a thigh between Remus' legs, frotting. 

"Hush, Padfoot. There's more." 

Sirius stilled, though panting as he felt Remus' breath approach his ear. 

"Good boy. I want you to suck me off while I lay the other offerings on the pyre and incant. Then spit my seed onto the fire, so Dionysios will have the gift of my musk, of _our sex_. And we will drink what he gives us, and you, Pads, will pound my arse with your dog cock. You'll become my Alpha." 

Moaning eagerly, Sirius dropped to his knees. Above, he heard Remus chanting, but he focussed on the slippery crown in his mouth, the loose skin his tongue pushed back and forth, the tautening behind his lover's balls, the blood drumming in the vein against his tongue, and the slightly sour smell of old sweat and restrained lust. He barely noticed the fire's warmth behind him. When Remus bucked, Sirius drew back to capture the semen in his mouth, the taste of it acrid as his first cigarette. He loved it. 

Sirius rose, a drop of come on his lips. He kissed Remus, then turned and spat. The "musk" arced into the flames, sputtering as it evaporated. Sirius turned and held Remus close, their hearts drumming for Dionysios as they slid together, writhing in dance. 

Shimmering golden liquid seeped out of a nearby rock. Conjuring a goblet, Remus gathered the sacred drink. He offered it to Sirius, who drew the strangely-spiced mead into his mouth before kissing his lover, sharing it.

Their erotic dance continued in the glow of firelight. And when Sirius transformed, growling, Remus let his claws scratch his chest before dropping to hands and knees. 

Padfoot found the scent of his lover's blood, musk and arse even more intoxicating than the funny mead and dipped his nose into Remus' crack before licking a long, wide swath up the man's spine from his bollocks. Remus mewled and spread his legs further. 

Pinning his mate, Padfoot mounted Remus, his cock pumping back and forth, sliding around until it found the anus. With a quick thrust, Padfoot was inside, lengthening and pounding and _taking_ , his cock's knot growing and throbbing against Remus' prostate. Under him, Remus whined and exposed his neck. 

Submission! He thrust faster, holding Remus' neck in his jaws as he ejaculated. Semen sped up Remus' channel as the knot continued to mash his prostate. Remus thrashed, coming again. Padfoot bit his neck harder, holding him down and in place, relishing the struggle beneath him until Remus collapsed. 

Laughter rang through the sacred Theatre. "Unusual to be called by two men, but what a fine initiation! Welcome."

Sirius transformed back, cock deflating and withdrawing. 

"Thank you, Siri," Remus rasped, pulling Sirius into a kiss.

The voice of Dionysios boomed around them. "Good show! Carry on, boys!" 

Tangled together, they felt their cocks stiffening – and noticed a milky sparkle to their surroundings.

Sirius grinned again, rolling so Remus straddled him.

Who were they to disappoint a god?


End file.
